A SILV£R GRAT'S 
R. R. REMINISCENCES 







Ccpyrigbt by Philip J. Keafiiy 

Cspyrii;lit by Philip J. K^arof 
1908. 






JUN 25 l^Ob 
-^0 1 -z^-iS 

^ COPY gj- , , 




Class JEJ-U— 
Book L ^ Ijl 
Copyright N°_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Ti^2 



Governor King's portrait was reproduced from a History of Grace Church, 
L. I. Through the kindness of Andrew A. Knowles, Esquire, the signature 
"John A. King," below the portrait, was obtained from the Bank of New 
York, N. B. A., and acknowledgement is made therefor. Also to Mrs. Bever- 
ley R. Belts for the photographs of her husband, the late Beverley R. Betts, 
D. D., and of his father, the late William Betts, Esquire. The portrait of 
Mr. Goodrich ("Peter Parley") was reproduced from a photograph taken 
by Brady shortly before Mr. Goodrich's death. The portrait of Mr. Stuart 
appeared in "Genealogy of the Londonderry Stewarts by B. F. Severance, 
Esquire, Greenfield, Mass., 1905." The Bank Note Company of which Mr. 
Stuart was President for so many years was the Continental Bank Note 
Company consolidated about 1880 with the American Bank Note Co. 



Fishkill Standard Print, 



A Silver Gray's R. R. Reminiscences. 



Did tilt" allusion to the Long Island Railroad locomotive 
"John A. King," last June, hring no memories to the "Silver 
Grays" who were boys in the rare old 50's ? If their mem- 
ories were stirred why has not one of them in all these 
months taken pen and proceeded to "dwell" on the times 
when the "John A." was a reality? If ye "Silver Grays" 
are all so diffident, let me do some of this "dwelling" and 
recall to you those days in strains of reminiscential senti- 
mentality transcending the ratiocination of the Commuters 
who fare daily to Manhattan from such stations as Jericho, 
Jerusalem and Babylon. 

We "Silver Grays," boys once (at any rate more agile then 
than now) recall the "John A. King." We recall, too, its 
dozen mates, as they journeyed from the east in the land of 
Shinar, along those arenaceous parasangs of the Long Island 
Railroad. The period fell in the easy-going ante bellum era 
when every locomotive held the individualism bestowed by 
cognomen, that individuality which vanishes like "morning's 
winged dream" the instant the cognomen is replaced by 
numeral badged upon the Cab just above some algebraic for- 
mula like "dx 'J -(ji:^)-." so favored by the Modern Superinten- 
dent of M. P. 

We recall likewise the "brigades" or trains of cars, passen- 
ger, box, gondola, barely two of them alike in hue, bobbing 
along, some upon four w^heels, some upon an uncertain num- 
ber, and, as the curves were rounded, bugling with a melody 
like that ringing early nioi nings when the mower 
"III tlie merry green fields of olden" 

whet the scythe. 



Whatever might be said to-day as to the appearance of 
those chariots of the rail it is certain that such appearance 
did not react in a depressing manner upon the travellers. 
No; in those cars of varied hue and wheel base was a cama- 
raderie which has fled forever. Look over the train from 
Farmingdale and muster the passengers being drawn to town 
by the "John A. King," and see who they were, what they 
have accomplished prior to this crisp morning in the autumn 
of 1859 with a glimpse at their achievements in later days. 
Glancing toward the forward end of the car let us ask: 



"Who is this, by the half-open'd door, 
Whose figure casts a shadow on the floor?" 



'Tis Conductor Charley ! Jovial, rosy-cheeked, azure-eyed 
Charley, with the ginger-tinted whiskers ! Dickens' Twin 
Brother ! Hurrah for popular Charley ! How commuters of 
1908 would stare could they see "Charley" ambling along, 
exactly filling the car aisle, greeted and greeting by given 
name, ticket-punch deftly twirling, currency folded length- 
wise between fingers, nonplussed never by the twenty dollar 
bill tendered for a twenty-cent ride, good humored ever and 
managing the train with executive ability. Was not Con- 
ductor Charley the first to relate that anecdote inseparably 
attached to the Long Island Railroad; that anecdote of the 
sleepy passenger? Here it is. A few mornings after Brush - 
ville station had been renamed, the train was approaching 
that stopping point and he called out "Queens." Immedi- 
ately a dishevelled, drowsy passenger straightened and re- 
sponded "The pot's yours. I stayed in on Jacks." 

A mem'ry of the Golden Age is "Charley" and his train; 
Their counterpart on any guage will never run again. 




AmcrlcAD Bank Ni-t. ' . N .^ 




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Now then let us turn to the travellers. 

In that double seat at the end of the car, modestly oblivi- 
ous that the alert locomotive up ahead bears his name, sits 
ex-Governor John Alsop King himself. Beside him sits the 
noted Samuel (J. Goodrich whose nom de plume of "Peter 
Parley" is famous the world over. On the reversed seat facing 
these two aie Homer H. Stuart and William Betts; Messrs. 
King, Stuart and Betts are often seen together on the morn- 
ing trip for they are men of scholarly attainment and of 
breadth of mind and their conversations are on a high plane. 
It is natural for them to drift together. Mr. Goodrich's pres- 
ence this particulai' morning arises from his having been a 
visitor at Mr. Stuart's house over night and he is now return- 
ing to the City. Of late he has been absorbed in completing 
his great work entitled "The Animal Kingdom Illustiated," 
in two volumes, and dedicated to his friend Professor Agassiz, 
and in its several years of preparation has been in close con- 
sultation with Mr. Stuart, whose wife, by the way, was Mr, 
Goodrich's niece. 

The topic which the group is weighing now is the Mam- 
moth. While discussing "The Animal Kingdom" some allu- 
sion to the discovery in Eastern Siberia of the frozen carcass 
of the creature has occurred, and this in turn has suggested 
the recent unearthing of the skeleton of an enormous Pro- 
boscidian. The discovery had taken place when the Ridge- 
wood Acqueduct tapi)ed "Baisely Pond," a basin which 
beavers had created by damming the brook at the point called 
"Two Mile Mill." In the course of time the pond filled with 
!Hurk, and it was in cleaning this basin for a reservoir that 
the gigantic bones were laid bare. Many observers had visited 
the site of the discovery and diverse were the theories ad- 
vanced. It was even decided that the creature had browsed 
on twigs of the white cedar. 



Looking at Governor King, there comes the recollection of 
his experiences. His career has been noteworthy in every 
aspect. In the first place we think of all the notabilities with 
whose memories he links us personally. 

Son of Rufus King, that friend of Washington, one of our 
first ministers to the Court of St. James. Then his school- 
mates at famous Harrow, in England, the Harrovians who 
were to write their names on the Leaf of Fame, Sir Robert 
Peel, Lord Byron and others. Then those student days at 
Paris while Napoleon was at the zenith of his meteoric flight. 
Next the return to America, where he was to follow in the 
footsteps of his eminent father and leave an unsullied record 
of usefulness to his day and generation. 

In the Assembly and Senate at Albany; Secretary of Lega- 
tion to Great Britain; Leader in the House of Representatives 
at Washington; outspoken opponent there of the Fugitive- 
Slave Bill; at the Convention in 1856 of the newly-born party 
of freedom which nominated Fremont and Dayton for stand- 
ard bearers; to round out this list of public honors with a 
triumphant election that autumn as Governor of the Empire 
State and to retire at the close of his term leaving a record 
of having administered the du-ties of his office with the high- 
est ability and strictest impartiality. Nor must there be 
omitted allusion to the delicate sense of official propriety 
which characterized his attitude when the Railroad Company 
sent him an Annual Pass, he returning it with a courteous 
note stating his reason for declining. 

Then sunset years of leisure, commingling with friends and 
neighbors, all of whom, high or humble, rich or poor, were 
welcomed in a most unaffected manner; busy days fully oc- 
cupied. Serving as President of the State Agricultural As- 
sociation — an organization which elevated New York farms 
to the highest standard; social obligations not neglected in 




/?_-^>^^2!^ /v^-< — ' 




this pleasing avocation, for we recall his long service as Pres- 
ident of the Union Cluh of New York City; presiding at the 
monthly n)eetings of the Literary Union, for which duty his 
experience and culture pre-eminently fitted him. When shall 
we see another puhlic man embodying all these capabilities ? 

Mr. Goodrich, likewise, is a public man and one of the 
leaders of the times, but exerting energies in the fields of 
education and of literature, while those of Governor King fall 
more immediately beneath the public eye. How nmch the 
humbler individuals of the age owe him for interpreting the 
sayings and doings of scientists ! Consider this very work, 
to which allusion has been made, "The Animal Kingdom." 
In the most graphic manner its multitude of woodcuts, sup- 
plemented by clearness of textual commentary, lay before the 
reader of average comprehension practically all that he can 
desire to learn of "Fur, Fin and Feather." The cryi)tic mon- 
ographs of Azara, of Cuvier and of Agassiz have been trans- 
formed into lucid sentences enabling every reader to grasp 
the meaning of the observations and theories which are being 
exchanged by these savants in their Parliament. 

Truthfully translating the hierarchical utterances for the 
laity, S. G. Goodrich was the truest type of interpreter. Free 
fi om dogmatism. Untouched by the materialism of the evolu- 
tionist. Imbued with candor. Candor like that exhibited by 
the late Robert Cecil, Premier of England, who had the courage 
to intimate that there is weight in the argument of design as 
applied to Animated Nature. Or, if we. may express the con- 
cept in other words, that the theory of Natural Selection is to- 
day, as it was fifty years ago, merely the insubstantial pagean- 
try of a day dieam. 

To Sanmel G. Goodrich we are indebted for the debut of 
Nathaniel Hawthorne. The latter, it has been said, stated 
to his classmate, Di-. Cheever, "Goodrich found me when I 



was discouraged and was the first to recognize me and give 
me monetary encouragement." If he had not been asked by 
Mr. Goodrich to become a paid writer for "The Token" there 
is Kttle doubt that Hawthorne would have burned still others 
of his early rejected manuscripts, and finally have drifted 
into some obscure vocation. His biography would have been 
a counterpart of that of the carver whose esoteric genius as 
Hawthorne narrates in "Browne's Wooden Image," flashed 
out to the amazement of the painter Copley 



'The spirit bloweth and is still 
In mystery our soul abides." 



How apposite to Hawthorne's own career those lines he 
penned on Deacon Drowne ! 



" * * * In every human spirit there is imagination, 
sensibility, creative power, genius, which, according to cir- 
cumstances, may either be developed in this world or shroud- 
ed in a mask of dullness until anotlier state of being." 



Mr. Goodrich's detection of extraordinary powers in the 
anonymous author of the article which had fallen under his 
eye; his successful efforts in finding that they emanated from 
the pen of "N. Hawthorne," and the introduction to the pub- 
lic which he accorded this "N. Hawthorne," through the 
pages of "The Token" were the "circumstances." He, a 
master of the language, recognized in Hawthorne the posses- 
sor of rare purity of style united with power or imagination. 
It required time and effort on his part to concentrate upon 
the new writer the observation of the general reading public, 
for very few of Hawthorne's fellow countrymen could be 



made to see these features. However, the recognition came 
when men of letters in England took note of these qualities 
and welcomed into their circle this writer who was destined 
to give the world "The House of Seven Gables," and whose 
unfinished "Sei)tiniius Felton" arouses deep regret that he 
left us while powers of fancy and of skill were still so pro- 
found. 

Mr, Stuart, a critic possessing fine discrimination and exact 
scholai'ship. was heard to observe in later days that every 
literarian should read, once in every year, one of Hawthorne's 
works. This is equivalent to saying that Hawthorne's writ- 
ings are classics of our tongue and, as exemplifying purity of 
English, are revered in equal degree here and in the Mother 
Country. Space, however, does not grant my "dwelling" 
in extenso upon Samuel G. Goodrich and his achievements, 
and, without further allusion to items of account which pos- 
terity owes to his memory, let us proceed. 

Mr. Betts is from much the same ancestry as the Governor 
and Mr. Goodrich, albeit the Betts, Robinsons and Duers were 
ranged on the Loyalist side duiing the Revolutionary War, 
while John Alsop, the Governor's grandfather, and Colonel 
John Ely, Mr. Goodrich's grandfather, favored the cause of 
the Colonies. Mr. Betts is a welcome member of the Century 
Association and a close fi'ieud of its president, the eminent 
Gulian C. Verplanck, and of other members who not infre- 
quently have visited his delightful countryseat, "Merriwood." 
Both he and Mr. Stuart are strikingly handsome, and as 
they sit conversing with the Governor and Mr. Goodrich, 
would claim attention in any assemblage. ]\Ir. Betts is about 
sixty, and his white hair and dark eyes — alas I during his 
last years to become sightless — consort well with his courtli- 
ness of manner and enable us to understand why in his 
younger days he was styled "Beau Betts." 





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The remembrance of Mr. Betts always calls to mind his 
faithful old retainer, '\Stephen," who every day drove him 
in the cariiage to and from the station. Stephen had passed 
a lifetime in Mr. Betts' service. His dignity of bearing was 
noticeable and his gravity of manner comported well with his 
careful attire and high hat. coming down not too far to hide 
the snowy wool above his dark countenance. Stephen grew 
feeble, but nothing could induce him to forego driving, rain 
or shine, to the station for Mr. Betts. The latter, deeply at- 



tached to his faitliful sei-vitor, huiiKtrfd him in this, hut sui)- 
pleniented Stephen's work hy a younger man, thus leaving to 
him only tlie driving of the sleek, sedate span of hlacks. 
Nay, he went fuither, for as Stephen grew feebler and the 
doctor prescribed a stimulant for him, Mr. Betts, to make 
sure that Stephen should have only the purest, sent to Ste 
Croix and directed that a cask of ''Can" Rum be distilled and 
shipped to "Merriwood" for the sole use of '"Old Stephen's" 
declining years. This is merely a single instance of his 
thoughtful care for those dependant upon him. 

Mr. Stuart, the youngest of the three, has finely cut fea- 
tures, and the waving silver hair and brown eyes sparkling 
behind his gold bowed spectacles are well set off against the 
(lelicate peach blossom complexion. But to resume our re- 
view of the passengeis. 

That slender, thoughtful young gentleman, looking out 
the window, is Avery T. Brown, who came aboard at Hemp- 
stead. His seatmate. Royal Ball, is a man who foresees the 
TO-MOKROW. With knitted brow and abstracted gaze he re- 
volves the TO-MOKKOW of the "steam wagon," an uncouth 
vehicle kept behind his barn and which he thinks can be 
adapted to ordinary roads. If he could but know of gasoline ! 
What visions of the flying motor car and its motorneer would 
delight his fancy I 

Those tw^o elderly gentlemen sitting in front of Mr. Brown 
are Warren Kellogg and DeForest Manice, neighbors and 
comrades ever. Their station (or as termed in those good 
days, depot) is Biushville, which soon will be changed to 
Queens. Mr. Kellogg married the daughter of Ralph Raw^don, 
who more than any other one person made steel plate engrav- 
ing for bank notes and securities commeicially available, and 
whose firm, known the world over under the name of Rawdon, 
Wright, Hatch and Edson, has ripened into corporate form. 



Speaking of bank note engraving reminds us that Mr. Stuart 
is to be called from the Bar not a very long time after this 
autumn morning to the Bank Note Company's Presidency, 
and will guide the extensive business for nearly a score of 
years, lifting it to a higher plane by bringing to bear the 
genius of artists like Felix 0. C. Darley and his comrades, 
whose vignettes upon our currency remain to this day unsur- 
passed in beauty and fidelity. 

Mr. Manice, who is a retired capitalist, originally in bus- 
iness in Hartford, Connecticut, but for many yeai's identified 
with New York City, has a superb country seat called "Oat- 
lands," just east of Brush ville. Piesumably its features in 
general were outlined by that great landscape gardener, 
Andrew Jackson Downing, whose heroic death in the burn- 
ing of the steamboat Henry Clay, on the Hudson River, while 
yet in the heyday of his prime, had saddened so many hearts 
on both sides of the Atlantic. Of Downing is the proverb 
especially true — "to Genius belongs the Hereafter." The 
splendid fulfillment of his genius is embodied in the designing 
of the grounds about the Capitol; the Smithsonian Institution 
and the Executive Mansion at Washington. 

Now we come to unassuming, brave Elias Durell. Poor 
"Elias !" Later he will volunteer in a colored regiment, and 
at Petersburg, Virginia, yield his life for his dusky kindred 
in bondage. 

That queer flat-brimmed high hat just beyond "Elias" 
covers the shining cranium of ex-Recorder James Matthews 
Smith, Jr. He is a noted raconteur, and in great demand for 
after dinner speeches. He is holding forth to "Ed" Perrin 
and "Dick" Busteed. What is the Recorder saying? Oh ! 
It's a story about the man who went to the lawyer who 
said, &c., &c. Exceedingly funny, as guffaws from "Ed" 
and "Dick" attest. Stay — now he's telling how a client pick- 



ed his pocket of fifty dollars and at the close of the consultax. 
tion handed it over as a retaining fee. More cachinnation, 
but let us move onward in our reconnoissance. 

Here is the Rector, Reverend Dr. William L. Johnson, more 
affectionately spoken of as "Parson" Johnson, while in the 
seat ahead are two of the "Parson's" charming daughters. 
He is a fine specimen of the gentleman of culture, the type 
to which Mr. Betts and his three companions just alluded to, 
belong. Indeed both Mr. Betts and the Rev. Roosevelt John- 
son, the "Parson's'" younger brother, were graduates in the 
same year at Columbia. 

The "Parson's" seatmate this particular morning is a broth- 
er clergyman, the Reverend Beverley R. Betts, son of Mr. 
William Betts, a most erudite yet modest scholar, possessing 
a sincerity and charm of manner that will never be forgotten 
by the Columbia College men who for many years were priv- 
ileged to meet him in the Library of the College. 

One of Dr. Johnson's daughters, the lively Miss Virginia, 
later to become Mrs. Escosura, is chatting across the aisle 
with Mrs. Emeline Sherman Smith (wife of the R«ict<*»'), who 
is taking her handsome little boy Frank to the City. Frank 
is talking over the back of the forward seat with "Nattie" 
Shelton, the young son of Dr. Nathan Shelton. The latter 
is leaning forward talking with the two occupants of the next 
seat. One of these is genial Gilbert Sayres and the other is 
Richard C. McCormick, who edits some newspaper in New 
York and who is destined to be commissioned Governor of 
Arizona by President Lincoln. 

Let us stop a moment and go back to Frank Smith and his 
mother. Frank, an only child and her idol, really merits the 
term handsome. His ability is undeniable and later he fills 
a Judgeship, but his career is brief. Here is a poem by his 
mother, a gifted lady, whose tact and charm as hostess were 



so widely known and admired. It was pencilled on a half 
sheet of letter paper a few days after Frank's death. 



AN IMMORTELLE. 

On the low bed, beloved, where thou dost sleep, 

I would one flower of sweet Remembrance place. 

One blossom of bright Thought that still may keep 

Thro' changing years unchanging bloom and grace. 

Formed by soft sighs, bedewed both day and night 

By tender tears of measureless regret. 

And growing ever in Love's holiest light, 

The light that lives when suns and stars have set. 

This mystic blossom, fair as when at first 

From Sorrow's deepest fount its life it drew, 

And long by sacred, sweet emotions nursed 

Is meet at last for angel-eyes to view. 

Therefore, beloved, look back to earth and see. 

The little offering I bring to-day. 

The tender, tear- washed flower of Poetry 

That now upon thy early grave I lay. 



On the opposite side of the aisle, chatting, sit Joseph Camp- 
bell and a companion of his age, both e'er long to don the 
army blue. Young Campbell is destined to lay down his life 
in that most dangerous branch of the service, a regiment of 
Engineers. Ever in the van, planning roads, laying cause- 
ways, building bridges, the members are peculiarly the target 
of the sharpshooter. How many youths like Campbell bark- 
ened to the cry of the oppressed and came forward to set the 
Bondman free ! 

Consider those three grand Constitutional Amendments 
which commemorate forever the immolation of these brave, 
unselfish men, and embody all for which their precious lives 
were given. 




Amrric«r TUnk Nnlc I'o.. N. V. 



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"Neither Slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a 
I)unislinient for crime whereof the party shall have been duly 
convicted, shall exist within the United States or any place 
subject to their jurisdiction. 



No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge 
the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States. 



The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not 
be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State 
on account of race, color or pi-evious condition of servitude." 



Here we come to Long Islanders of the real stock ; Bar- 
nardus Hendrickson, of the Shrievalty, and Brother Snary. 
Conservatives both, their faces set against innovations. 
Who but Snary objected to the waste of taxpayer's money 
when it was pioposed to sprinkle the dusty Village Street ? 
Unanswerable his argument, for he maintained that "even 
if watered nothing would grow there." 

The forward end of the car at last. Riding backward sit 
Damon and Pythias, viz., Codwise and Rogers. George has 
torn himself away from the refreshing and inspiring fra- 
grance of the Village symposium for a run into town to clip 
cou})ons, and when zephyrs from the car doorway catch his 
long beard it wags and flutters like a struggling crow. 

"Dory." "Denuire Dory." Who would think him the 
entertainer of those spirits gay out at that Robinson Crusoe 
Club House perched on stilts in the Bay? What scenes 
of feasting! "Dory" and George are facing the latter's 



brother-in-law, ' 'General" Herriman, who necessarily re- 
quires a whole seat. This seat literally supports the "Gen- 
eral" who, moreover, counteracts the (to him) unpleasant 
swaying of the train by steadying himself with both hands 
upon the top of his substantial gold-headed cane planted 
firmly between his brilliantly polished boots. Having laid 
eyes on the "General" who is there, pray, could ever forget 
him? Yet futile would be the attempt to portray him to 
those who never had the opportunity of viewing that rotund 
form, garbed so immaculately, morn, noon and night. Of 
him 'twas said, an oyster trembled when the "General" 
looked at it. Although the "General" is "Attila" where 
oysters are concerned, he has kindly traits, displayed es- 
pecially toward his sable dependents, and his large patrimony 
has done good. 

Obeisance to the "General !" With our salute to him we 
muster out the last of the passengers behind the "John A. 
King" of that morn so many, many Novembers ago. Faces 
of others of that company present themselves. Alas ! their 
names, too faint upon the page of memory's roll call for 
your "Silver Gray's" dimming eyes, have gone forever. 
From longer or from shorter course, all these "Fifty-niners" 
whom we have reviewed in this year of Grace, 190$, are at 
rest, and w^e "Silver Grays" wander slowly through the 
streets of their silent cities, pausing at each long home in- 
scribed with some well remembered name to — 

"Muse and brood and live again in memory 
With those old faces of our infancy." 

And the good old locomotives with the individualities so 
dear to us in days of yore ! Among them we recall an 
ancient one, rather taller than a "Panhard" autobat. Af- 



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fixed to the boiler's side was a slab-shaped panel displaying 
in letters of great energy -Fiske." The smokestack leaned 
a bit and the rods looked rather slender for propelling the 
single pair of three -foot -six drivers. Like a cyclopean orb 
peedng into futurity seemed the battered headlight of the 
broken down machine standing outside the Round House. 
Month after month, brooding with that sphinx-like mien 
peculiar to the "cold" locomotive, it awaited the Edict of 
Demolition. There, you and I and our comrades passing in 
"Charley's train" used to steal a glance at it reverently. 
But in the Springtime of one of the 60's, "Charley's train" 
came to the accustomed spot and lo '. Sede vacante ! A 
void in our hearts! For the Edict had arrived and the 
''Fiske" had been taken to the Silence of its Rest, the scrap 
heap. 




Thus "passed" this locomotive named in honor of a 
"Rameses" of the railroad. "Rameses?" Ah, Yes. The 
annals of the Long Island Railroad are microcosmic of those 
of Egypt and ever, from incorporation in 1834, narrate how 
upon it has pounced dynasty after dynasty. The railroad 
Champollion notes the ruler's cartouche giving place alv^ays 
to new. "Menes" Shipman of the 30's, "Rameses" Fiske of 
the 40's. "Amunoph" Morris of the 50's, "Thothmes" Char- 
lick of the 60's, "Pharaoh" Poppenhusen of the To's ; each 
in turn expelling his predecessor, grasping the sceptre ; em- 
bracing (each and all of them) the fond delusion that the 
quotation of "L. I. R. R." can be sent to par and kept there. 

my Brethren! "who daily farther from the east must 
travel!" Verily with "gold and purple of adorning" come 
the memories of "Fifty-nine!" Let there kindle in our 
hearts once more that glow of boyhood's morning, as again 
before our vision glide — "Phoenix" — "Neptune"— "Moutauk" 
and perchance one "Long-a-Coming." Impressive, each of 
them. Carrying the grand black smokestack with dignity 
of antlered stag, barrel-jacket girt with zones of gleaming 
brass, woodwork vivid with the colors of the rainbow. 



Let our fancy watch once more the train leaving "Old 
Willow Tree," as we used to watch it in the days of eld, and 
view the steam rings rolling skyward with their curling rims, 
circling, hending, broadening ever, till they mingle with the 
upper air. Let aroma of pineknots be wafted to us from the 
woodburner's noble smokestack. Let us hear again the 
mellow tolling of the bell and bring to mind the whistling 
code. 

Ah! the feeling an engineer could impart to th»? code I 
Borrowed from the age of the London Mail and followed in 
the early dawn of railroading, but long, long ago given over 
to neglect, came the warning pealing forth while the engine 
gathered momentum. A prolonged note, fleeing far and 
wide, only to come again — come again — in echo. The tone 
like the winding of Fontarabian horn, gravely thrilled the 
hearer. A thrill akin to that aw^akened by the deep vibra- 
ting in full-organ, a thrill no quavering modern locomotive 
can call to life, the bravura of the engineer proclaiming to a 
"pendent world" that the throttle had been opened and he 
had the right of way I 









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